


Fighter

by Philosophizes



Series: Bad Decisions Series Backstory Fics [15]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adults, Children, F/M, Humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophizes/pseuds/Philosophizes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Austria and Hungary spend some harrowing hours in a Swiss hospital, awaiting news of their son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighter

Roderich sat on the dingy plastic-and-metal chair in the waiting room, nervously tapping out the chords to a Tchaikovsky sonata on his knees.  
  
Erzsébet _paced,_ stalking around the room in circles and glaring at the fake potted plants and the empty seats and the way it had gotten dark outside, and the door that no one was coming through.  
  
“Lisbeth, please-”  
  
“Why won’t they _tell_ us anything?” she demanded, whirling. “It’s been-”  
  
“Seven hours and fifty-three minutes,” Austria murmured.  
  
“ _It’s been too long!_ They should have been _done_ by now-!”  
  
Roderich silently patted the seat of the chair next to him, and Erzsébet collapsed into it, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.  
  
“János will be just fine, Lisbeth.”  
  
She reached over and laid her hand flat over her ex-husband’s.  
  
“Then stop playing Tchaikovsky in your head.”  
  
The door opened and Austria’s head whipped around as Hungary jerked upright.  
  
 _“You-”_ Roderich forced back the rest of the sentence. “What are _you_ doing here?”  
  
In the doorway, Switzerland crossed his arms. “Oh calm _down!_ I was just coming to get you. Your son’s awake-”  
  
Erzsébet brushed past him in her rush to see her son.  
  
Austria stomped over.  
  
“How did _you_ get in there when we-”  
  
“This is _my_ country, Roderich,” Switzerland told him. “And I’m the one who brought your son in in the first place.”

* * *

Hungary glanced in the doors as she past them, not bothering to go back and ask Switzerland which room had her son. She’d find him-  
  
The fifth door down on the left had a little card stuck in a slot by the door.  
  
 _‘Héderváry-Edelstein, János Béla’_  
  
She pushed the door open.  
  
“ _Mama_?”  
  
“Jancsi,” she replied in relief, sitting down on the bed next to him.  
  
He reached over with his left hand and she grabbed it, stroking his fingers with her thumb. Erzsébet leaned forward to touch his cheek.  
  
“Jancsi, how are you fee-”  
  
“The doctors said I can’t ski anymore,” he interrupted her.  
  
“Why, did you-”  
  
János shifted his shoulders so that the blanket fell of them, and his mother couldn’t hold back her gasp.  
  
His right arm was gone.  
  
“Oh _no, drágám_ , I’m sorry-”  
  
“They said I can’t ski,” János repeated. “But _I’m_ going to prove them wrong.”  
  
Hungary smiled weakly at him and stroked his hair.  
  
"I bet you will"

* * *

“ _Which_ one did you say again?” Austria called, slightly annoyed.  
  
“You’re in the wrong hallway,” Switzerland told him, catching up and equally as annoyed. “It’s _this_ way.”  
  
The shorter man grabbed his arm and dragged him off in the opposite direction before turning a corner.  
  
“But this is the C wing, _you_ said the-”  
  
“I _said,_ the first hallway in _C_ wing! I don’t know where _you_ were going!”  
  
He pushed a door open and Roderich saw his ex-wife sitting on the bed with their son propped up on some pillows, talking animatedly and waving his arm around for emphasis.  
  
His _arm._  
  
 _“János!”_ he cried in shock, and dashed over.  
  
“What took you two so long?” Hungary demanded. “Roderich, did you get _lost_ again?”  
  
“I did _no_ such thing! János, what _happened?_ ”  
  
“Well, _Apa_ , I was skiing like usual, but then there was this avalanche-”  
  
“I _did_ tell you to be careful,” Switzerland admonished.  
  
“Hey, Uncle Sebastian!” János greeted him. “Have you been here this whole time?”  
  
The man drooped as Erzsébet tried to suppress a snort.  
  
“At least call me Basch,” he muttered.  
  
“Anyway,” János continued. “I was just telling _Mama_ about prosthesis! They’ve got some really good ones now, and if I can manage to get together enough money for one of the better models-”  
  
“-of _course_ there will be enough money,” his father interrupted him. “I am _not_ going to let you lose all your savings over something like this. I have money, _I’m_ paying.”  
  
“ _We’re_ paying,” Hungary corrected him firmly.  
  
“-and then I can get back to skiing!”

* * *

Austria froze.

“ _No!_ No, János, you are _not_ going back to that-”

“But _Apa!_ ” he exclaimed. “Skiing is my _life!_ ”

“You just- you just suffered a _life-threatening injury,_ and you lost your _arm!_ You are _not_ going to back and do something that you nearly _died_ from!”

János sat up straighter, and Roderich saw a familiar fire in his eyes.

“I _am_ going to go back, and I’m going to do even _better_ at it than when I had _two_ arms!” he declared.

He swung his bandaged and stitched-up legs out of the bed and stood up, taking a few, slightly wobbly steps forward to stand nose-to-nose with his father.

“I can still _walk,_ so I can still _ski!_ I will _not_ let something like this keep from doing what I love!”

Austria couldn’t help half-chuckling.

“I should have known he’d be like this, dear,” he remarked fondly to Erzsébet, his eye’s not leaving his son’s.

Hungary smiled sweetly.

“Of course. He grew up with _me._ ”

“What do you mean, this is from _you?_ ” Switzerland huffed. “ _You’re_ not the idiotically stubborn one!”

“Oh, I’m not?”

 “Excuse _me!_ ” Austria exclaimed, affronted.

 “It’s _true!_ How many times did I have to carry your sad, beaten body back home after getting into another fight with _her?_ ”

“You didn’t have to do it _that_ often!”

“I did _so!_ And _half_ the time you’d wandered off in _completely_ the wrong direction, so I had to go hunting for you!”

“So you went after him in the first place, _Sebastian?_ ” Hungary asked, feigning innocence.

“I did _no_ such thing! I just knew that-”

“-I was going to ask for his help eventually _anyway!_ ”

The two men stared at each other in embarrassed horror.

János and Erzsébet took one look at their faces, and burst out laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Drágám (Hungarian): Darling  
> Apa (Hungarian): Dad


End file.
